Page 96 of Threadbound

Bran chuckled, the sound surprisingly husky and rich. “You willna hurt me by doing that.”

Something about the way he said it sent tingles running through Jamie’s veins, and he let his fingers rest on Bran’s hair again. Bran hummed once more, one hand sliding around Jamie’s hip to guide his cock so that Bran could run his tongue over it.

Jamie’s fingers tightened involuntarily in Bran’s hair, and the fae hummed again, then took Jamie’s erection into the heat and wet of his mouth.

“Bran,” Jamie groaned.

Another hum, this one sending shivers through Jamie’s whole body. And then Jamie stopped being able to think as Bran rolled a tongue that didn’t feel quite human in the best possible way around Jamie’s length, tugging and swirling, with the slightest hint of teeth making Jamie’s hands tighten involuntarily in Bran’s hair.

Bran’s fingers tightened on Jamie’s hips, pulling his body closer, carefully buffed talons digging into Jamie’s skin, but not breaking it, sending little electric currents of almost-but-not-quite-pain straight to Jamie’s balls.

Bran sucked him harder, and Jamie pushed his hips forward, pulling Bran’s skull closer, chasing the heat and pressure of his mouth. Bran’s hands gripped tighter, something that might havebeen a groan or a growl thrumming from the back of his throat and nearly sending Jamie over the edge.

“Bran, I can’t?—”

But it seemed that Bran wasn’t particularly interested in stopping him, instead gripping Jamie’s ass in his hands and then scraping his talons around from buttocks to hips.

Jamie cried out, his fingers forming fists in Bran’s hair as he pumped himself forward, releasing in a rush down Bran’s throat.

He almost apologized again, but then Bran rolled him around his tongue one more time, as though trying to make sure he caught every drop, and Jamie’s knees nearly buckled. Only his hands on Bran’s head kept him upright.

Unsteady, Jamie sagged back against the window ledge, blue eyes wide as he looked down at Bran, still on his knees.

Still dressed, Jamie noticed, although it was abundantly clear from the front of his trousers that he had enjoyed what he’d just done to Jamie.

That sinful pink tongue flickered over his lips, and Jamie’s breath caught in his chest. He released Bran’s hair and held out his hands.

It took Bran a moment before he realized that Jamie wanted to help him stand, and he slid his fingers into Jamie’s offered palms, allowing the half-breed to pull him to his feet, although his legs trembled a little, and Jamie’s hands slid to his elbows, tightening.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a frown once more marring his features.

“Aye,” Bran answered, although he was a little breathless.

Dahud-Ahes help him, he wasn’t exactly inexperienced, but Jamie did something to him that he didn’t understand.

Jamie’s big, warm hands pulled him closer, and Bran tilted his head back to allow Jamie to bend and bring their lips together. And then he groaned as Jamie once again tookpossession of his mouth, his tongue probing as his hands moved to the small of Bran’s back, pulling their bodies tightly together.

Impatient and needing to feel Jamie’s skin against his own, Bran flicked the fingers of one hand, easily dispensing with the irritation that was his clothing, and Jamie pulled back sharply with a laugh.

“If it was that easy, why bother with all the buttons?”

“I dinna want to scare you,” he murmured, dropping his eyes.

“For future reference,” Jamie told him, using one hand to capture Bran’s chin to tilt his head back up. “You can do that any time you like.” And then his lips were on Bran’s again, one hand still holding his jaw, the other pulling them together with pressure on the small of Bran’s back.

The feel of Jamie’s skin, soft and warm, against his own, the feel of Jamie’s muscled thigh pressing against his hot and rigid arousal, the heat of Jamie’s mouth, the pressure of his hand against Bran’s spine…

He moaned into their kiss, needing more of all of it.

When Jamie broke away from their kiss, Bran felt weak—not with sickness, but need.

“Jamie—” His name was half-breath, half-prayer.

Jamie’s hands, both of them, grasped the back of Bran’s thighs, lifting him up and holding him tightly.

Two steps, and Bran found himself on his back on Jamie’s bed, Jamie’s body covering him, his mouth once again captured by Jamie’s kiss.

He tangled his fingers in Jamie’s blond hair, scraping talons against Jamie’s scalp and swallowing the groan that slipped from Jamie’s lips to his own.

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